


Genetic Algorithms

by naiadwrites



Series: You Are Never Alone [1]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Bad Wolf, F/M, Fluff, Pete's World, one lifetime can be very long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-21 13:15:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2469575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naiadwrites/pseuds/naiadwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tentoo wasn't quite finished cooking when he kissed Rose on that beach. A golden kiss can be a catalyst. But can he finally let himself go? Can Rose heal her Doctor born in war?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

On the beach of Bad Wolf Bay, fire sparked in her blood with that warm, golden kiss, but that sound woke her up from the dream. The sound of the Tardis leaving her, leaving them, forever.

She ran. He never even said goodbye. She was too late. Too caught up in him. She stood there, staring into nothing, letting the edges of despair curl into her soul. Then he took her hand. Impossibly, she felt the touch of his thoughts, soft and sad and sweet and storm. So familiar. The banked flame in her blood caught tinder and surged into a wildfire, burning through her.

Hot darkness consumed her as she fell to the sand, sparkling with golden flames.

\----------------

Soft warmth caressed her mind, every nerve raw, every sense throbbing. Surrounded by the softest fur, the warm growl of family, the keening sadness of goodbye. The scent of ancient paper, fresh cut apple grass, and dust after the rain. The pulse of time.

Bodies surged around her, so many, brushing against her, welcoming her — mourning her. Pack mates. So many.

Vision came slowly, uncertain, for though her eyes didn’t open, her soul did.

Wolves everywhere. Dozens…hundreds….millions…

Nearby they were vivid, in every color of the rainbow and some she had no words for, pink and grey and green and tan and more and more. They played and yipped and cried and howled all around her. In the distance their forms faded into the enveloping mist.

Not wolves. Faces. So many faces, human and alien, too many to contemplate, some achingly familiar, some that she does not yet know, some she will never know. And then the world tips sideways again and they are all ribbons — electric silk, weaving through and around each other, curling and winding and fraying and snapping, achingly lovely and ecstatic and sad.

She is twisting and writhing, dancing as the mist turns` to raindrops — fat juicy raindrops that are cool but gentle, making her shiver as sensation bursts across the breadth and length of her, caressing every strand of her. Then she is a woman, waltzing naked in the raindrops falling from the roiling clouds in the not-sky. Then she is a wolf again, mouth open to the soothing water as it slides down her throat and soothes a burning thirst.

A patch of light breaks through the thick angry clouds overhead and the light is searing, blindingly bright, deadly. Just as she is about to howl with the pain of it, the clouds surge to mend the breach, and lightning flickers menacingly in the depths of those impossible clouds. The light is extinguished, it’s threat gone, and the wolves around her rejoice. But the storm above roils, screams, winds tearing at the clouds until reality seems to shake and shiver.

The clouds thicken, grow deeper and darker. Within them she can see the reflection of a great blue wolf, larger than any other wolf, large enough to keep them all inside, large enough to rival the storm itself. The blue wolf looks toward her, indescribable eyes that see all that ever was and will be.

Lightning flashes blue and silver through the thick clouds and the rain pelting the pack below begins to sting as the enormous wolf above turns and is suddenly a woman with crazy dark hair piled on her head and a tattered dress out of a bad costume drama. She hovers over everyone, part of everything and nothing and she looks straight at Rose as she speaks with a smile curving lips touched with infinite sorrow and bliss.

“Always so much bigger on the inside. It was - will be - is good to feel your presence, Rose Tyler.” The woman beamed at her, a smile as beautiful and terrible as a star being born. Rose — was she Rose? Oh yes, she’d almost forgotten - Rose took in a deep breath, wishing she could ask a thousand questions but knowing that there was no time — there was never enough time.

The glowing woman whispered to her, a deep thrum in her soul that she could never forget. “Take care of my thief, little Wolf. He is, he was, he can never be alone. Time won’t let him be, and Time won’t let him go. You have always been his, and this one is yours.”

The giant flickered for a moment, like an old film reel, and a familiar blue box wheezed in her place, that grating noise that Rose would always hear at the edges of her best and worst dreams.

Again, the box became the great blue wolf, everywhere and nowhere and as big as a world, touching the throbbing thick clouds that were beginning to swirl and stretch.

The voice pressed within her mind. “And this is the time when we part…” Words whispered as the wind itself spoke for the last time. “Hello, Rose Tyler.”

The clouds began to pull apart, and Rose flinched, convinced that the killer light would once again sear the pack below, but there was nothing. Nothing but a cold blackness that began to fill the space between her and most of the pack. She was almost alone, only a few wolves swirling around her, yipping with protective furor as the rain slashed down and matted their fur. The rest, so very many, spun away, as the vworping whoosh of the TARDIS filled the air.

And then, for a single crystalline moment, one wolf leapt back across the gap as all the rest seemed frozen, as though the rules didn’t apply to the one dare-devil. Huge and copper, with hazel eyes that sparkled, this wolf leapt and danced and darted around Rose with unaffected grace. She rose her muzzle to the sky and howling befo

The rich voice of a woman spoke in her mind. Teasing and tart and terribly sad. “Don’t worry, Rose darling. He’s really truly the Doctor. Enjoy the one you’ve got. I know I’ll enjoy mine. Someday, we will have to compare notes!” A deep, musical laugh echoed as the woman with wild but wet red curls now jumped through the void with startling ease and disappeared into utter nothingness.

There was only her own small pack left in the vastness, with the clouds above and the rain. The rain grew thick, but soft and warm, and she licked her lips that tasted of salt. She began to burn with the warmth, burn hotter and brighter, she shone gold as though trying to light her way to seeing across the vast emptiness that the others had disappeared into. She grew, larger and larger, a wolf towering above the others who yipped around her heels. The clouds were all around now, caressing her skin and surrounding her in the warmth of tears. Were the clouds crying, or was she? Joy or sadness, she wasn’t sure which.

The Doctor was there, his lips on her cheeks, clever tongue capturing her tears — his arms around her, holding her as she burned so very brightly. She clung to him, kissing his neck, smelling the new warmth of his skin. He was comfort and lean muscle and the softness of his hair under her fingertips made her smile. He was home.

“Wake up, Rose. Please, wake up for me.”

 

\----

She awoke suddenly but softly, her eyes opening as she grabbed for the dream that slipped teasingly away, leaving her with images and conflicting feelings that made no sense. The soft light of very early morning filled up a familiar room, rendered in shades of pale gray and taupe and the single splash of red roses in the fluttering curtains that seemed far to vivid to her battered mind. Her heart clenched with dread. She was back in Bad Wolf Bay, in that damned inn. She was alone again.

Except, out of the corner of her eye, there was the Doctor, sitting at a cluttered desk, and his double, which made her blink until she realized there was a mirror on the back of the door and there really was only one of him. He was muttering away in an odd mix of languages while he stared into a set of binoculars trained at a amateur chemistry microscope that he’d obviously rigged with it patented set of “improvements” that seemed very jiggery-pokery. There was a choir of beeping and whirring surrounding the bed she was lying on, and as she glanced around herself, she saw the most amazing collection of repurposed kitchen appliances, laptops, mobile phones and what she suspected was once a sonic toothbrush that had been half converted into an early attempt at a new sonic screwdriver. Suddenly the aching energy that seems to thrum throughout her body made more sense, and she could feel the leads that connected her to some of those beeping monitors. She must have fallen ill after….after he left her. But, he was still here. Time Lords were so very confusing — she really should be used to it by now.

She looked at him, hunched over the little desk, now writing furious notes. Still very much looking like her Doctor — but yet, he was in nothing but that burgundy t-shirt, his blue suit coat draped over the back of his chair. His arms were thin but muscular, and it was more of him than she could remember seeing. She forgot to breath as he suddenly stood up, hands thrusting into his mad hair as he spun around. “Oh I am thickity thick thick! All that worry for nothing. Brilliant!”

Still the Doctor then. Anger and hope and love and rage and abandonment and fierce possessiveness spun her mind around in a mad dance. She sucked in a breath and he looked up at her, his eyes dark and shining — the same endless eyes she’d crossed universes for.


	2. Two

He blinked his eyes, trying to force out the sandy gunk that had formed in the corners. Sooooooo inconvenient, this need for sleep. He shouldn’t have slept at all really, what if she’d woken up while he was asleep? True, he was unconscious for only two hours and twelve minutes and not a full eight hours before he felt rested, but having to sleep every 24 hour cycle was very new. Was he going to start needed more and more sleep as he felt more and more human? Bugger.

And then there was that shower when Jackie had rudely declared that he stank like rotten onions, and that was a fact of being part human that he would not be enjoying at all. Jackie was even ruder than he was, though with the new Donna voice he’d acquired — ah, that’s where the ‘Bugger’ had come from, still rude, even more rude, best watch that - he’d at least managed to yell back enough to get her to leave him alone with Rose and get some sleep. He’d not let her win about the shower either, well — he had, but not because of her yelling, rather because he really did stink of unpleasant alliums and needed the bloody shower. Showers should be a bother reserved for when covered with Pescaleen phlegm or pear jelly -that was a horrid thought never thinking that again - or baked clay from Rigel III, not a daily occurrence to cope with primitive bacterial colonization of eccrine gland secretions run amok. Though Rose in the shower, warm, soapy rose…gah!

He stared down at his lap and the new adjusted equipment therein and frowned as it twitched with no commands from his still considerable brain. This was miserable. He’d never be able to hide it from Rose.

He looked at her, sleeping so peacefully, her skin glowing in the soft early dawn of Norwegian summer. After the shower, he’d been too warm as his new body temperature seemed to be at war with his inner perception. Not as hot as a human, but not immune to the influence of thermodynamics as a Time Lord. Over the night, the cold seeped in the cracks of the gable bedroom in this little inn, and he had not — was not! — been a little terrified of the feeling.

But now, looking at the soft plains of her face, the healthy pink flush of her skin, the scent of her in the air — he could still smell more efficiently than any human ever born — he was getting warm again. Too warm. Hot even, flushed and awkward as hormones buzzed through his blood and surged under his skin, causing more reactions that were involuntary and that he could not control. He’d forced them down with an iron will since, “Run,” but now…now he was more than half human and his biological control was far far less than it had been.

This was madness, everything that Rassilon had preached against. His mind was nine hundred and four years old in strict linear time, far older if one including time loops and paradoxes. He’d been at Rose Tyler’s side for just over two of those many years, and had her in his thoughts for four years, three months, five days and thirteen hours. Such a short amount of time. So ephemeral. And yet he wanted her body and mind and soul with sickening rapacity. He wanted to devour her. He loved her.

He paused for the moment as the words rang through his mind and seemed to chime through this universe once again. Timelines shivered around him, less clear and less all-consuming than they had been before, but still there taunting him. But they didn’t explode and wrench in sickening waves if he admitted to loving Rose Tyler. They shimmered and glowed and were so very very tempting to explore.

Her soft breathing filled the air, and he looked her dark gold hair and pale skin — so much paler than it once had been. She lived a hard life since he’d lost her, though most of the evidence had been burned away in that golden fire. But her mind- her mind and soul would be the same, touched by the danger he’d brought into her life. Now she was so confident, so incredibly beautiful, and much wiser. Watching her run toward him along that street, he’d seen too much. It had been years for her. More years in her timeline than his. And far more than in her mother’s. She’d been brilliant and crossed universes for him, had recreated herself, made herself something else for him. For him!

But not him, not anymore. He looked away from her, examining his hands. Same hands, same long fingers, hands that had killed so many before he was an hour old. How could she ever want to stay with him? How had he - the other he, the Time Lord he - he’d left her here, abandoned them both, and she would never be able to forgive him. First he’d made her into something no longer human, and then he’d go and die and leave her alone. He, every version of himself - all utter fools.

He should run away now, leave her to enjoy her family while she still could. He’d only poison her more. He’d only dim her shining. He wouldn’t suffer long, life was so very short now. But, the Time Lord had left her, and if he left her too…wasn’t he supposed to be this evil man? Wasn’t she supposed to fix him? Leaving her seemed the worst crime…one that she’d track him down for. His indomitable Rose.

He tapped his feet on the wood planks of the floor, as though encouraging them in the urge of a millennia, to run. But it was so much less strong now, a habit rather than a compulsion. He felt differently in this body, with these possibilities and unique timelines that tasted fresh and beautiful.

Clear as crystal in his mind, the sudden knowledge that he couldn’t run, couldn’t protect her from himself. He could feel her, there in his mind. The bond that he’d desperately tried not to form too strong, but nevertheless grows thicker and stronger, weaves more and more complex each time he touches her. That bond is exactly the same as he remembered, except now it’s not sliced off like a phantom limb. It’s whole, intact, and aching to be completed. He could feel her in his mind for weeks before this latest cataclysm, an itching that he thought was him going mad from the sin of wishful thinking. He should have known that she would find him. Seeing her at the other end of that street, feeling her mind again. Oh, it’s different, her mind — it’s so much richer, sad for her loss of innocence but intoxicated by the depths of her strength, the whisper of her thoughts in his head, filling the empty places. It shouldn’t happen like this, not yet, but the potential is there and it is terrifying.

His last thought before he almost regenerated was of her, and his first upon being created in this strange new form was of her. And they’d kissed, and the bond throbbed painfully in the vastness, with the promise of fulfillment his entire species had thought lost to them.

It was too strong now. No more running. Now, her mind buzzes in the room, brilliant and soft and oh so welcoming…he could lose himself in her and never regret it until she realized the pain of him dying and her living on…

No! He may only have one heart, and no access to 51st century medicine, but he had no idea of his own makeup other than the one heart and a few other missing or altered organs. He looked at the primitive microanalysis array he’d cobbled together and stuck his hand into his pocket. The TARDIS coral found it’s way to his hand and the soft hum in his mind sent his panic scuttling into hiding, waiting to rear it’s head another day.

He pricked his finger on the broken edge of the coral and prepped a slide with deft hands. He was still a Time Lord. The only Time Lord here. If anyone in this universe could give Rose her forever, it would be him.

\------

 

He was dancing about like a madman when he registered that her breathing had changed, fast but halting, what he would associate with “Angry Rose”, or at least what had once been “Angry Rose”. Or it could be “Aroused Rose” but he’d never fully cataloged that particular variant because he was afraid if he was aware of her exact bodily changes when she was feeling lusty that he would have found it even more impossible to keep from touching her. He looked up and into gold and amber eyes that saw right through him, and he swallowed audibly.

“You’re awake! Molto bene!” he grinned, hiding his terror and hope and anguish and need behind a comfortable mask. “You’ve been asleep forever! I was sure you were going to wake up sometime, but you never know with these things, and your mother didn’t much feel like making the right kind of tea. Not much for tea in this B&B, more coffee people. Not enough tannins. Not sure tannins would work for this though, pretty unique, you are. Unique, that’s us. Time Lord human metacrisis, me, mostly human. And you, and you, you’re…you’re…"

She gave him a small smile, eyes unsure and a bit sad. “Duhktorh…” she choked and he lurched toward her, intent on helping when she lifted a very bare arm toward her mouth and spat out four tiny lumps of metal into the pristine palm of her lovely hand.

Her eyes flicked up to him, her gaze steady and purposeful, with the slightest hint of fear pushed far back. Gold flashed once again in those depths before she spoke, “Doctor? What happened to me?”


	3. Three

She looked at the uneven silverish lumps in her hand and back at the Doctor, unnerved by the overly brilliant but nervous grin on his face. “Doctor? What happened to me?”

His grin faltered slightly, replaced by an unfamiliar look of uncertainty. It was something so rare…she wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen the Doctor with that look. Perhaps it was the human part of him. Her human Doctor. Her heart clenched for a painful moment, before a growl in the back of her mind made her concentrate on the man in front of her. Staring at her, open and longing and he…was…here! No TARDIS - but no running away. He was here. With her.

He bounced on his toes, hovering near her bed and glanced down at her palm. “Fillings. Those are your dental fillings. Amalgam and silver and a touch of mercury, but not really nearly as bad as they made it out to be, though really the technology got much better than that and with those lovely engineered bacteria in the 2020’s well, no more of that..”

She ran her tongue around her mouth as he blathered on and found that no, she hadn’t had any teeth struck out. No pain, no missing teeth. She felt rather brilliant, if a bit stretchy, like she’d been pulled apart a bit too far and snapped back together. There was a faint warm buzz in the back of her mind that was distractingly familiar, but nothing else seemed odd or out of place.

“Doctor, my teeth don’t hurt. And I got knocked around a fair bit back at the Medusa Cascade and nothing hurts. So either I’ve been in this bed for a really long time and my teeth have magically healed, or something timey-wimey weird has happened.”

He gave her a bit of that manic grin with that spark in his eye that no one else could ever match. “Oh, you brilliant girl. A bit of timey-wimey weirdness indeed, my Bad Wolf.”

She shivered in response to the name, as well as the look in his eyes. “Bad Wolf? I thought that was just to lead me to you? I thought she, I...I thought there wasn't much left. Those words, that you would know…I mean, there’s been odd things about me ever since, but what has Bad Wolf got to do with me having lost my fillings and feeling a bit too fantastic after all this madness?”

His eyes looked at her so intensely, she had to remember to breathe. “Oh, my Rose. Defender of far more than the Earth. You are spectacular! I’m so happy to be here with you, to get to see you bloom. Blooming, just like your cheeks. Such a lovely metaphor. Good old Ben Jonson, such a wordsmith and so often ignored in later…” His eyes roamed over her in ways they’d rarely done before, never when he knew she was watching him. It was thrilling, and entirely off topic. King of distraction, him!

“Doctor! Fillings, in my hand, no pain. What…is…going…on?” She grinned at him despite her worry, loving his tangents even if she very much wanted to know what had happened to her and what was going to happen with them. She could feel her cheeks blushing hot as his eyes seemed to eat her alive.

“You, my precious pink-and-yellow human, have regenerated. Just a bit.”

“What?!” her mouth dropped open, and the fillings dropped from her palm as her hands flew to her face, feeling if there were any changes. She sounded the same, her gaze flew to the mirror on the back of the room’s door and she looked the same, if her roots seemed a bit improved. Funny that. “You’re teasin’ me. I’m human — mostly. Don’t think I can pull that trick of yours. I don’t look no different.”

“I would love you in any body, Rose Tyler." Her heart - just the one, stopped for a moment at that casual declaration before beating so loud she could barely hear his blather. "Of course, I do happen to be very partial to the one I met you in. And you haven’t changed too much since the day I met you. Not a scar on you, not even the one from that Kvetske dragon we tangled with. I liked that one, shape of a little moon right over your elbow, like a smile.” Speechless, she couldn’t think straight and attempted to look at the back of her elbow while the Doctor rattled on. “You might be more blonde though. Jackie exclaimed quite loudly over that one, but I wasn’t in the room. She kicked me out said she’d get you into your knickers herself.”

“What!” her mouth fell open in shock and she sat up, pulling the sheet away from her enough to see she was in a camisole and daisy print knickers that were far too big and a fair bit scratchy, like they’d just been out of the package. She pulled the sheet back up to her neck and blushed.

He grinned at her, just shy of a leer, the effect spoiled by the echoing blush on his stubbled cheeks, “Not going to check then? No more roots for Rose Tyler. Not unless you want to dye your hair brown or black or blue. You’d have blonde roots then. Blue hair and blonde roots. Look gorgeous on Praxid Alpha 9, with that violet sunlight. But that you’d look gorgeous anywhere.”

Her eyes felt like they were about to pop out of her head and her brain whirred faster than she thought possible. She knew she’d been changing. All those extra months spent hopping around in time, coordinating physicists and engineers from all over the world, getting the dimension cannon up and running, and then rocketing across universe after universe. She knew her brain was different, smarter, and her body could take punishment that she shouldn’t be able to bounce back from. But regeneration?

“I didn’t die, did I? Why would I regenerate?”

“Well, no, thank goodness. Didn’t really regenerate, after all. Not quite enough Gallifreyan TNA for that. But you got dosed with a fair bit of Artron energy I’m afraid. I wasn’t quite done cooking. Wouldn’t have harmed you if you were human, well then, maybe a bit like eating a microwave burrito a bit too hot, searing a bit, but nothing permanent. Uncomfortable that, always having to warn companions about the perils of advanced kitchen appliances on their inconvenient anatomies.”

“Doctor! Me, Rose Tyler, stupid human ape, regenerating! What is going on?”

He winced slightly, and she figured he must regret that remark now that he was part human himself. He coughed slightly before finally saying something. “You’ve still got a bit of the Bad Wolf in you. Lucky that, or I would be in big trouble. Almost certainly would have died in a few days. Maybe a few months. Human-Time Lord metacrises aren’t exactly stable. Brain would have cooked a bit with all that human body temperature and…”

Her universe was pingponging back and forth from the edge of hope to the depths of panic. Anger flooded her, and her voice went shrill. “What! You said, he said….you’re going to die!”

He waved his hands about like he was fending off a rabid animal, or a Tyler slap, “No! No! No one is dying. Not for ages yet. Not anymore. Bad Wolf, gave me a bit of help. Directed the last bits of the regeneration energy, gave me a proper heat sink for all that human metabolic heat so the brain doesn’t poach, really, she's a wonderful thing to have on your side. I’ll be with you for as long as you’ll have me. Longer. Can’t get rid of me, really.”

His mind caught up with the babble and she could see the realization of his words hit him full force. The insecurity in his blink, the vulnerable quirk of his lips — something new but familiar at the same time. She had to smile. Smile with her tongue between her teeth, that smile that his eyes always ate up with a remarkably human hunger. “Oh, I think Bad Wolf and I will keep you around for forever. That’s what you promised, isn’t it? Back on the beach. My forever, you and me.”

He licked dry lips and she followed that tongue, trying not to get distracted when he seemed to be in a mood to say more than he usually did about important things. That sound in her head seemed to buzz louder, but she was too focused to bother about it just now. She pushed again, hoping for more information. “Can I regenerate again? Can you? How long is forever going to be Doctor? Am…am I still human?”

She never thought her mother’s words would come so very true. She was so different from the nineteen year old Rose Tyler that lived in the Powell estate and went down to the pub every other night. She was so very different, after all she’d seen — would the Doctor, even this strange new Doctor, could he love her?

His eyes looked so serious, for all there was a smile plastered on his face — as though he knew the turmoil in her mind. “You are still human — mostly. Seventy eight point three percent of you, at least my best estimate. Need better equipment. And no, you can’t regenerate again — not fully. You’ve only got one heart. What just happened wasn’t a full regeneration — a bit like a face-lift really, rather than a full reconstruction. Switching the genes around a bit. Must have been going on slowly for years and years, and just got manifested with the right trigger. Like a long slow burn with a brilliant crescendo.” His eyes were suddenly dark, hot, and she thought about other ways to burn — to burn with him.

She swallowed thickly. “Seventy eight point three percent human. And what’s the rest then?” She thought she knew, but she wanted to hear it. Wanted to know what he thought about it.

“You’re genes are now about ten point five percent Gallifreyan. Species that Time Lord's came from. So, from me. Or the other me. Not sure which. But I think, with that kiss.”

She smiled at him, eyes glancing at his lips. “Yes, that kiss. Or the one before, when you took the vortex out of me.”

“Oh, you remember.” He looked nervous and guilty and adorable.

“Oh yes.” She leaned forward, letting the sheet fall down, revealing the curves of her breasts, tempting him. “Someday you are going to tell me your version of what happened on the Game Station. Right now, I want you to assure me that you are not now my brother, and then explain to me how seventy eight point three and ten point five don’t add up to one hundred. What’s the rest, Doctor? What am I?”

“Oh no, not your brother or father or son or anything like that. Humans are ninety nine point one percent identical, even if one if from Timbuktu and the other from Sydney. We are nowhere near that close. Still not even the same species, really. Though compatible. Definitely, completely compatible.”

She let the sheet fall more, enough to reveal a bit of cheap lace from her camisole, and he leaned toward her, his hands twitching as though wanting to touch the skin she was revealing. His tongue was not quite fully under his control anymore, not with temptation so near. “And the rest of your genome - it’s not temporally stable. I can’t visualize the rest with the equipment I’ve got here. But, it must be TARDIS genes.”

“TARDIS! I’m part time and space ship?” He sat down on the end of her bed with a thump, shaking his head slightly at the screech she’d given.

“My TARDIS, well, all TARDIS, are living things. Grown, farmed really. Bit like plants or corals, but vastly intelligent and sentient. You knew most of that already. Came from a different Gallifrey, parallel universe to the one my species evolved from. TARDIS were adapted over eons, their genes spliced and respliced, until the result isn’t something that can exist in any one time, in any one state. They are infinite flexible. You have over one tenth of your genetics from the most timey-wimey, bendy-pendy species ever to exist. I can’t really tell with this primitive equipment and only this bit of broken sonic, but they are temporally active gene pairs which only occur in dimensionally transcendent species and….and ….”

“What does that mean, Doctor. Really, what am I?”

He smiled and cupped her cheek. “You are beautiful Rose. You are utterly completely yourself. Completely and wonderfully Rose Marion Tyler — unique in this universe or any other. With you, anything might be possible.” She tried to turn her face into his palm but he pulled away. He ran his hands through his hair and then lifted his head, staring at her in the sudden silence. He looked proud and fascinated and very sad. Why?

She spoke softly, “I knew something was different, but…I look the same, mostly. Bit easier to heal — noticed that pretty quick, working for Torchwood. Bit more quick on the uptake — one of the Torchwood scientists told me I knew more than most of the PhDs who were working on the cannon. I had to, but I never wanted to think about why it all made sense now. And the cannon, no one else could stand it more than once. It made everyone so sick. Mum…is she ok? She must be feeling terrible by now, all the others who tried it…”

“Jackie’s fine. She was nauseous, had a dermal burn, like a sunburn. I fixed her some ointment and got her some anti-inflammatories and she’s sleeping. She’ll be fine, I promise. But yes, unshielded void transfer like that, it’s not something you can do often without damage. Not more than once or twice.”

“I’ve been jumping for months, Doctor. And jumping in time for years before that. I coordinated teams across the Earth to allow the cannon to be developed in time, before all the stars went out and there was nothing left of this universe to save. I spent almost eight years working on this when the rest of the Earth experienced eight months.” He opened his open to speak, but she pressed a finger to his lips. “When the cannon started to work, I visited a dozen universe before I began to listen to my instincts and follow them through the void. I could feel you, Doctor. I got so close to you, different versions of you. You have the strangest fashion sense I’ve ever seen. At least I like the leather and pinstripes, both.”

He spoke around her finger, and the warmth of his breath sent shivers over her skin. “Rose, it was so dangerous. You should be…”

“But I’m fine Doctor. I’m better than fine. We needed the Doctor. I needed you.”

He turned his face away and glanced down, staring at his hands where they clutched at his knees through the dirty blue trousers. “Do you want me, Rose? Why would you want me? I’m dangerous, and deranged and broken and I’m not even a Time Lord anymore, me. Forty eight percent human. A cheap photo taken of the real thing. Not…

She captured his face between her warm hands. “Oh Doctor — there’s the Donna in you. Think you’re not important anymore, just because you’ve not got your magic box or all your magic powers? You’re the most important person in this universe Doctor, at least to me. And if you’re Donna too, then you’re more, not less.”

The tears that had been threatening finally began to fall, as she cried for all that had happened, and had not happened, and might yet happen.

“The worst thing I’ve ever had to do, worse than picking myself off that beach and living after you told me goodbye, worse than watching you change from one man to another and mourning the man I fell in love with and wasting so much bloody time, the very worst thing was killing Donna Noble.” His eyes went wide and she pressed a finger over his lips again. “I know that that she’s not dead. Not really, but that timestream’s version of her is and it’s my fault. She was amazing, she was brave and beautiful and magnificent and I had to watch her die and know it was my fault. I’ll think of it every time I see her…if there’s some of her in you, then you’re more, so much more. You’re my Doctor.”

“Rose, oh Rose. I don’t deserve you. I may have his memories, but I have his guilt and more. I’ve killed so many. And I’d do it again if it meant I’d save you. As for Donna, I’m not sure…”

She captured his face between her palms, raising up on her knees and letting the sheet fall away completely. “Later, Doctor. You have a lifetime to wallow if you must, but you’ve got a partner in crime now. We’ve both destroyed the Daleks…we’ve got that bit in common. I used to think you…he never really could forgive me for that. And Jack, poor Jack. What did I do to him. Even if I got to apologize on the TARDIS, I’ll never see him again. And he’ll live forever and it’s my fault.” Her tears continued to fall and ran down her face, landing on his clenched hands. “I’m dangerous too. I’ll always be part of the Bad Wolf. But I can’t live my life…we can’t live this life with nothing but guilt. We’ll go mad.”

He flinched again, pulling away again and searching her eyes for a long moment before the temptation of her body lured his gaze, his eyes dropping to take in her breasts, her naked thighs. She glanced at his lap, and yes, he was having a very human reaction to her semi-nudity, one she’d never observed in the Time Lord. She smiled. “So then, forty eight percent human then. Still more than half Time Lord, if I’ve got my maths right.” She could do probably do calculus while in her sleep now, but he didn’t need to be distracted by how she’d changed. “What’s different then? Anything need analysis?” Oh, she wanted to follow up that line by stroking him through those tight trousers, but she wasn’t quite that brave.

“Forty nine percent Gallifreyan. Three percent TARDIS.” He scooted farther from her, almost far enough to fall right off the bed, but he didn’t get up, didn’t run. He did babble on though. ”There’s the one heart and the no respiratory bypass, which is of course rather a bother with the lack of redundancy. And I lost one of the three livers, but my kidneys still seem to be in tip top shape, and I kept the extra ribs — bit difficult to model the same shape without them I suppose. Really, the calculations that must have gone into the metacrisis to keep everything working are remarkable. Dunno if it was the TARDIS helping or the Bad Wolf finishing up its work or what, but it’s really brilliant. Do you know that I’ve got external gonads now? Otherwise with the increased body temperature any spermatozoa would be sterile with the old internal set. Wonder where the genes for that came from — couldn’t have been Donna. Maybe Jack? He was the last human to touch old Handy before it got all bubbly.”

She stared at him for a moment, eyes wide. “You’re saying you’ve got Jack’s balls? Oh, oh, he would have loved to have known that!” Rose giggled. “Does that mean you’ll lust after everyone and everything? It’s bad enough that you’ll flirt with anything, but now you might want to follow through?” She didn’t really think that, no…she didn’t. She really didn’t, damn it.

He waved his hands, his expression aghast. “No! I promise, no desire to shag my way through the universe, thank you. Only one person I want to shag. Only…” he stopped suddenly. “Gob’s even worse this time, ain’t it? Me and Donna Noble and Jack, all mixed up, all these hormones and impulses and such floating around in the blood and no way to suppress my reactions. Why, if you started emitting pheromones then I don’t know if I could…” he sniffed the air and his face turned a lovely shade of blush red, something she’d never, ever seen before and found that she liked very much. The sound in her mind was a roar, and her heartbeat echoed the sound. She shifted on the bed, more and more aware how little she was actually wearing and how much she still craved the slightest touch for her Doctor.

“Rose?” he squeaked.

Leaning forward the last few inches, she kissed him.


	4. Four

Her lips were soft and warm, though not as warm as long ago when he’d died for that kiss. Now they were perfect, so utterly perfect that he opened his mouth to praise their perfection and found that her tongue sneaked into his mouth and began to dance along his teeth.

Oh kissing. Kissing was brilliant. Snogging Rose Tyler was tremendous, especially when it was not full of smoke and salt and desperation but sweet and hot and -- oh Rassilon, this body had absolutely no control at all, did it?

His hands gripped her elbows, pulling her closer, and the press of lips and teeth and tongue and skin made their awakening bond flare in his mind like burning magnesium. That bond ached for completion, just as he always knew it would, if he gave in and kissed her. And it was so vibrant — especially as it was almost the only thing he could still feel…he should be drawing away, running, protecting her until he could determine… but this disturbing half-humanness left him without the strength.

He needed her, her lips, her skin, her heart and soul. His hormones ran riot given that primitive involuntary response he had yet to learn to circumvent. His cock grew hard, reaching for Rose, needing to know what she needed.

His impressive brain could hold over three hundred sixty four thousand separate lines of inquiry and data processing, but that brain was utterly flummoxed by the battle between protecting this new universe from his potential for madness and giving in to the — oh Rassilon, the things she could do with that tongue! — absolutely alluring fate of bonding himself to Rose Tyler. Forever.

He began to press open-mouthed kisses to her chin, her jaw, tasting the rich flavors of her skin. His tongue was still incredibly good even in this body, and though the essence of time was muted, every other flavor was perfection. The taste of her pheromones, rich and savory like a banquet just for him. Her hormones — subtly different and new with the changes to her body, still settling in and receptive, but not yet fertile. The salt on her skin, the lavender soap Jackie had used to bathe Rose while she was unconscious — oh, must not think of Jackie Tyler while kissing Rose, bleh.

Rose moaned softly, the sound sending sparks flying through this new hot blood of his. He realized his hands had wrapped around her hips and his long fingers were pressing into her firm behind — blast it, he was too used to thinking like a prude — her arse, her sweet, firm arse that he’d imagined his body pressing against five thousand seven hundred and twenty three times in a wide array of positions and conformations.

Her hands pushed up under the edge of his T-shirt, still warm and soft against him, even though his own skin was shockingly hot now. He felt like any moment he was going to burst into flames, and when her nails scratched up his spine, he went just a bit mad. The bond would wait, he might not even need it now. He could finally enjoy being with her. But this body wouldn’t wait any longer.

He pulled away from her long enough to whip his T-shirt over his head. He fumbled with the button on his trousers and he toed off his trainers, thankful that back in the Crucible there’d been no time to bother with bits of his normal armor like socks and undershirts and ties and pants. He stood there very naked and looked up to see Rose staring at him with her mouth open, shock evident in every lovely features as her eyes swept over him. But there was also heat. More delicious, lustful, addictive heat to set himself on fire.

There was an awkward pause full of heavy breathing. Silence made him nervous. So his gob ran away. “I like being naked. First thing I remember in this body, being naked on the floor of the TARDIS. Might just be my preference in the future, just to warn you.”

More silence. Maybe he should have thought about this more. She licked her lips and nodded, her eyes tracing over him, making his cock jump. That definitely caught her eye. It wasn’t entirely human, after all. She made a small sound, something like, “guh”.

Thinking was overrated. He stepped up to her, smirk on his face, ready to do anything to show her how much he needed her.

She grabbed the back of his head and pulled him down to her, kissing him with mad energy that shocked him, then thrilled him, then made him insane with wanting to lick and suck and know every inch of her skin. The chains he’d always put on lustful thoughts of her, the dark desires that he’d ruthlessly suppressed every time he held her hand — all came spilling out of him. His hands at gripped the hem of her camisole and pulled, the fabric ripping apart like tissue. She gasped and he pulled away, his eyes taking in both the damage he had caused, and the beautiful pink and peach lushness of her exposed breasts.

He still had more strength than a human, but he no longer had the control of a Time Lord. He should go, he should stop before he hurt her…but she was so so delicious, so tempting…

She laughed brightly and her hands curled into his shoulders, pulling his face toward her and kissing him with laughter on her lips. She pulled away just a moment later, giving him that tongue between her teeth smile that had made his cock throb in three different bodies. “Ya really do want me, don’t ya, Doctor?”

He sank his hands into the wild silky nest of her hair and pulled her toward him. He kissed her, pressing her backwards slowly, letting her limbs flail until they both hit the bed with the thump. He barely let her catch her breath before his hands strayed over her neck, her collarbone, her shoulders. The weight of his body pinned her to the mattress, his bare chest pressed against her breasts.

Her hands weren’t idle, scratching at the base of his skull and making every new nerve ending purr with the pleasure of her touch. He whimpered into her mouth when she stopped and slid her hands between them, pushing him back slightly. He gasped for breath, even as he pouted in bewilderment at their separation.

“Got to breathe, Doctor. Don’t have that respiratory bypass, neither one of us, eh?” She smiled up at him and leaned up to press her lips against the curve of his jaw, her quick panting breaths ghosting over his skin still scented of time and renewal.

He pushed himself up on his arms, looking down at her loveliness and taking in the curves of her breasts glowing in the soft morning light, the rosy pink of her nipples drawing his eye and making his cock throb. “You’re beautiful, Rose Tyler. So so beautiful.”

Her blush started at her chest and he watched it move upward, until the roses of her cheeks matched the darkening pink of her hardening nipples. Unable to wait another moment, he bent down, taking her left nipple into his mouth without warning, feeling her jump underneath him and squeal. Ah, he loved to hear her squeal. Every noise she made filled in a hole in this single heart of his.

Her hands stroked over his ribs as he sucked at her nipple, running his tongue over it to taste the stardust on her skin, the sweetness of her need for him. His other hand cupped her right breast and stroked circles so lightly that she squirmed, arching her back to feel more. He nipped her with his teeth and she let out a whimper that made his cock twitch, and he ground into the bed, needing the stimulation and finding nothing but worn cotton. Her calves were already wrapped around his thighs, trapping him against her so he couldn’t run off.

He wanted to lift his head and look in her eyes, give her a grin and tell her that he’d stay, but her hands were in his hair, her fingertips too close to his temples. The golden glow of her mind brushed his and he moaned, achingly empty and needing her in ways he couldn’t yet risk. He let her nipple go with a pop and moved farther down her body, pressing kisses along the skin of stomach as his hands caught hers and pressed them against the mattress, incapable of driving him to acts of madness.

“Let me…let me do this. Let me taste you. No distractions.”

She made a half-annoyed snort that was beautiful and silly and very Rose. “You get distracted by any shiny object, Doctor. I’m dyin’ to see what you could accomplish when you concentrate.” He looked up and there was that smile, tongue between her teeth, lips swollen from his kiss.

He grinned and winked and lowered his head. He pressed his nose against the top of her folds and inhaled a thousand scents that made up one unique Rose. Her whole body shivered and her hips canted upward and he circled his tongue around her clit slowly, savoring the taste of her. Brilliant. He laved her and stroked her, kissing her folds with boundless enthusiasm and a need to hear her every last moan and swear and scream.

He plunged his tongue deep as possible into her core, loving the texture of her hidden flesh, the flavor of essence. He’d rather hoped this body would be clever with his tongue, though he usually excelled at this endeavor. This was the very first time that he was truly enjoying this act, that he honestly wanted it, rather than it being merely curiosity or a means to get out of a sticky situation. He needed to do this, he needed to feel this — Rose’s pleasure, Rose’s taste.

She arched into his face, pulling against the grip he still had on her hand and thrashing her head back and forth. She let out a bright cry as his tongue returned to her clit, pressing hard then flicking just so. He finally let go of her hands to push two fingers inside of her, and he felt her muscles clench around them, her thighs shaking as she came.

He stroked his fingers softly, his sense buzzing with the pleasure he could feel breaking in waves against his mind, seeking entrance and begging him to join her. He looked up into her face, expecting her eyes closed in ecstasy to instead see liquid brown eyes dazed and loving, staring into the very heart of him. She was terrifyingly beautiful.

Her voice was shaky. “You’re even better at that than I’d ever fantasized.” He grinned wide and she rolled her eyes, “Oi, I’ve done it now, you’ll be so smug your bloody head will explode.” She plunged her hands into his hair and ran her nails against his scalp, her nails hitting every sensitive nerve and coming far too close to his psy points for comfort. He pulled his head from her touch, from temptation, and instead leaned against her thigh, staring at slick redness of her womanhood and smiling.

“Well, I’ve always hoped I be good at that. Study and practice make perfect and all that.”

He looked up just in time to see a flash of hurt across her features. He wanted to tell her the truth — that this was in so many ways a first for him, but if he let down all those walls — she’d never be able to run fast enough from him.

Instead, his fingers pressed against her, thrusting, searching with academic knowledge that had become instinct to find just the right angle. Her eyes widened, mouth opening wide as she tried to suck in enough air as her pleasure began to spiral up again. He stared up at her, enraptured, as she shook her head back and forth, eyes finally closing as she screamed, “Doctor!”

She gushed sweet liquid, coating his tongue as he bent forward to lick her folds and then his fingers as he withdrew them slowly, softly, letting her rest as tremors raced through her body. His cock was demanding attention, his balls aching and heavy — an utterly new and not entirely unpleasant sensation. He hungered for her, as though he’d been locked away for days and was on the verge of starvation.

He moved up her body, propping himself on his arms to stare down at pale peach skin and honey hair and the pink flush on her cheeks from the pleasure he’d brought her. His cock was hard against her inner thigh and the memanima were swollen, slick and engorged, pressing against her skin and sensing the echoes of her pleasure.

He felt frozen, waiting, the press of their unfinished bond bright and almost irresistible in his mind. Rose blinked up at him, smiling softly. Her hands wrapped around his shoulders, stroking down his back. Then she whispered, “My Doctor.”

One hand pulled her thigh up to wrap around his waist, as the other kept him balanced above her. His cock poised at her entrance and she arched her hips, taking him in a scant inch. “Now, Doctor. Waited bloody well long enough!”

He grit his teeth, unable to speak as he slid into her, his eyes unseeing as the sensitive nerve endings within his cock were overwhelmed with sensation — both his and hers.

-Heat-  
-Wetness-  
-Pleasure-  
-Welcome-

Her body told him everything he needed to know. His memanima swelled further, his cock conforming to her walls, fitting her as though bespoke for Rose Tyler alone.

He breathed slowly, carefully, trying not to plunge his mind into hers as his body shaped itself to her needs. She was moaning beneath him, her eyes huge and glassy.

“Doctor! How…alien….s’brilliant!” she smiled then gasped as he pulled his hips back and thrust again. This time the sensations sparked through them both like fireworks, almost painful in their brilliance. His memanima rippled as he bottomed out, adding another uniquely Gallifreyan layer to his very human activity.

Rose screamed, burying her head into his neck, her nails sinking into his back. Legs strong from running wrapped tightly around his waist, her hips surging against his. Her pleasure was growing again, bright and golden, and it was pulling him forward because for the very first time, he was feeling instead of observing. The heat and sweat and driving pleasure were incredible, and for the first time he understood a great deal of what it meant to be human. How delicious and deadly the combination of bliss and a lack of control could be.

Each thrust sent pleasure bouncing back and forth between them, cascading like water between rocks in a stream until there was a raging whirlpool. Her body told his what to do, what angle sent her nerve endings into overdrive, how fast, how hard, how to twist his hips just so to bring her everything she needed. Her eyes stared into his, liquid amber and gold, her soul and all its beautiful faults laid bare for him to love.

Her eyes drew him in, and one errant hand brushed against her temple. Her mind was so close, her thoughts, her happiness, her love so near it was painful not to touch it, not to forge their minds into one. She screamed, happy and bright and brilliant, her eyes closing her walls squeezing his cock and making his heartbeat far too fast and his mind start to blur into a white wall.

It was that white wall which terrified him and gave him to strength to pull away, his mind shutting off the drive to bond to hers even as she clung to him, shaking in the aftermath of her orgasm. Her was still rock hard, throbbing, his body in an agony of frustrated need.

He pulled out of her slick heat with a grunt and flipped her over roughly, his hands pulling on her hips as he knelt behind her, arranging her unresponsive limbs until he could plunge back into her from behind. Her back arched and she whimpered and he stopped, terrified that he’d hurt her, though his cock received only knowledge that she was still in the throes of pleasure, still slick with need fulfilled and yet unfulfilled. She still needed him, and though he knew now he could not join her, he would give her the sweetest lie he possibly could. But he couldn’t look in her eyes, couldn’t touch her temples, couldn’t risk losing himself in her. He couldn’t untie his body and mind, he was still too much the Time Lord.

His hands gripped her hips, determined not to wander as he began a slow thrust, giving her just enough time to recover and begin to climb again toward her peak. The skin of her back glistened with sweat and he leaned down, tongue touching her shoulder, tasting her skin — the sweet salt of her making him surge harder. She clenched tight around him and he pulled her hips into his, unable to stay slow and careful. But she didn’t want that anymore. She arched her hips and changed the angle and it was perfect, perfect, it was exactly what he needed, though she had no way of knowing, nothing but wonderful human instinct.

He grew reckless, hands straying from her hips, one to circle around to stroke the hard bud of her clit and the other inching around the sinuous curve of her waist, tracing up her spine, sinking into the yellow gold of her hair and pulling softly, making her swear and clench and moan.

The buzzing of her mind grew into a burn, and from a burn to a screaming inferno. He thrust harder, deeper, darker and her soul blazed hotter, demanding he what he would not, could not give her. Not until she understood. Not until she could say no.

He looked away from her body, and made his mistake. He looked up and straight into a mirror. Straight into her eyes — golden glowing eyes that knew. The mirror above the bed reflected them both, and then again the mirror on the back of the door, creating an infinity of Doctor and Rose, joined as one, heat and passion and love and need, echoing forever. Her eyes calling to him, demanding something.

Pleasure stroked up his spine, balls tightened, and his mind thrust toward hers and she shouted in joy, coming around him and throwing the doors to her mind wide open in welcome.

But he can’t, he can’t.  
He can't come, can't fake it. Can't lie to her.  
He has to give her a choice.

He pulled out of her, stumbling away, his body screaming in pain and his one pathetic heart galloping a mile a second. His ears rang, not registering the pounding at the door. Rose turned to gape at him, sorrow and loss written on every feature.

The door behind him opened with a bang and Jackie Tyler was screaming. He had just enough presence of mine to cover his bobbing cock as she barreled into the room.

“Oh, you animal, what the bloody ‘ell are you doin’ to ‘er!”

Crack!

Ow, that hurt a lot more in a half-human body.


	5. Five

Rose twisted the key in the lock and swept in the door, wincing as it squeaked ominously. She’d always wanted to fix that door, but why bother when she wasn’t going to be in this universe much longer?

At least she hadn’t gone and sold the cottage after all. No time for real estate transactions when she was gallivanting around the multiverse for longer than she could quite believe. It had always been a good place to hide to make sure she wasn’t mucking about with the timestream. Isolated and away from practically anything in the west of Cornwall, this little cottage outside of Tintagel was a rundown mess, but it was her rundown mess. Bad plumbing and a temperamental Aga stove, but it was a place she could escape to think. And she’d brought him here–so he couldn’t escape an explanation. Perhaps she should hide the keys to her car in the coffee tin?

She set the sack of groceries on the kitchen counter and turned around swiftly, ready to return to the car for the rest of the supplies. But he was right behind her, far too close for comfort, and she plowed right into him, and two of the other sacks fell to the group with ominous plops.

“Fuck!” she muttered, stooping to pick up their supplies at the same time as the Doctor, causing an unfortunate collision of their foreheads. With a, “thwack,” they both sat down on the floor, rubbing their heads and glaring daggers at each other. Then he chuckled, and she began to laugh, and soon they were rolling on the ground, laughing their heads off, grinning like loons.

The laughter slowed and then stopped, and they lay next to each other on the wooden floor and stared into each other’s eyes. She breathed in, a thousand questions on her lips that she’d held off asking for an excruciatingly awkward three days, but she didn’t get to ask one because he was there, pressing his lips to hers, kissing her with a desperation that she shared. Her hands sank into his hair and he gripped her hip, pushing himself up on one elbow to loom over her, pressing her down into the floor and letting her feel that he was already getting hard, already he wanted her just as she wanted him. But…

But…

She reared back, pulling her lips from his and pulling his head back by his hair, letting out some of the simmering anger she’d kept under wraps for the last three days. “What the bloody hell, Doctor? Do you want me or not? Because unless your cock is even more alien than it looks, Mr. Zebra Stripes, it sure as hell feels like you are desperate to shag me.”

He pulled away and rolled over, covering his face with long-fingered hands and moaning softly. It a voice deep with arousal, he choked out, “It’s memanima, not zebra stripes. Specialized membrane. Aids in telepathy–you feel some of what your partner feels. And I’ve been told my pattern is very attractive.”

“Oh! You and the lectures. Just…argh!” Frustrated beyond belief, she scrambled to her feet and marched out the door, heading out to the car and picking up the last of their bags, his duffel containing some of his newly acquired wardrobe and her own simple black suitcase. By the time she’d come back inside and shut the front door with another squeak, he was in the kitchen, putting their groceries away in the tiny refrigerator and cabinets with the peeling green paint. She had no desire to trudge up the thin and somewhat rickety staircase with two bags, so she left them by the front door and went to sit in the small parlour, flopping down on her one truly nice piece of furniture, a squishy, TARDIS-blue loveseat that was perfect for a good book and a cuppa or a nice nap in the middle of the day.

Eventually he wandered out of the kitchen, two cups of tea in his hands as a peace offering. He walked softly, his new Chucks squeaking and his still stiff jeans creaking slightly as he moved. He looked far, far too good in jeans for her comfort or her ability to maintain any sense of anger. He placed the tea cups on an end table made from an old cider casket and then he perched in the much less comfortable chair across from the loveseat.

They looked at each other in silence for a moment. His eyes seemed lost, and a little desperate, and she had a sinking feeling in her gut, that he, even a somewhat human he, would never be happy just with her, just with Earth. “And how long does it take to grow that TARDIS coral anyway? How long are you going to be stuck here?”

“What?” he blinked at her, looking completely confused. Obviously, that’s not what had been troubling him. “I’m not going anywhere, at least, not without you.” The icy dread in her heart let up at least a little–he wasn’t lying. His brow furrowed as he went on, “I thought you were mad at me? That you hated me?”

She rolled her eyes. “I can’t hate you Doctor. It’s impossible. But you have to know…” she bit her lips and blew out a breath. “Later, if you stay, I’ll be confused and sad and I’ll yell at you for blowing up our toaster and you’ll be ranting at me about paperwork and we’ll scream at each other for almost getting killed saving the world again. You’ll be bored and I’ll be tired and we’ll be sick of each other and have nowhere to escape. Later I’ll be mad at her Doctor for stranding us together but…

“ _Her_ Doctor? Who is…?”

“I dunno. Take your pick. Time itself? The TARDIS? Or that ginger woman with the curls who doesn’t like rules. She…she seemed so familiar…”

“River Song,” he whispered, his eyes impossibly wide and filled with a familiar regret. “How would you know…Oh, oh…I’m…”

“What happened Doctor? Who is she?” She bit her tongue and swallowed down the last dregs of jealousy. That was another universe, after all.

His heels tapped against the wooden planks of the floor, punctuating his halting words. “She said…she knew my name. She couldn’t have know that…I think she was going to be my wife.” She sucked in a breath, pain flaring despite preparing herself. He rushed on, “But she died, sacrificed herself to save me and four thousand people. I saved her thought patterns and memories into a computer database, so she’ll live on, in a way, for some time. Not with me…with him though. Someday I…someday he will meet her again, out of order, and he will have had to marry her for her to be able to speak my…his name. Or…well, there is one other possibility, that she will have witnessed something cataclysmic, but I don’t think…no, I really think she thought she was my…his wife.”

Shocked into silence, Rose’s mouth hung open for a moment as he finished. But she couldn’t stay quiet, not with the pain written on his face, “Oh, Doctor…you lose ‘em over and over the same way, don’t you? I fall into a parallel universe and then come back and you, him…he left us. Felt he had to, didn’t he? And this River Song, she dies saving your life and you manage to keep part of her alive and then you leave her in another bloody parallel universe she can’t escape–only this time there’s no copy of you and no hope. And you know what, Doctor, I think you…he’ll let himself love River Song, because of the guilt. Because he’ll already know that she’ll die, he doesn’t stop to ask himself how and why and if it’s his fault, he’ll already think that he knows.”

She burst into tears, hot and heavy and he pounced across the floor separating them, his arms curling around her as he buried his head in the crook of her neck. His tears slid down his cheek and on to her shoulder. They both cried for the Other Doctor, they cried for themselves, stranded in the new universe, each with a body they didn’t understand. They cried for the things they had seen and done and the things they would never do or see. Then he smiled, smiled into the salty sweet skin of Rose Tyler. She smiled back, face pressed into his temple. For there were wonderful things they were going to do and see and be and feel if they could just talk to each other!

He pushed away from her suddenly. She looked up, confused and wrung out, tears drying against her cheeks, her mascara running just a bit.

“Doctor, what…”

He held a finger to her lips and she stared into his wide brown eyes. “You are too tempting, Rose. I’m going to talk. Really talk. Not talk circles around things. This is me being a sort-of-new man and making a decision to actually say something rather than a whole lot of nothing which is really…”

She pinched his lips shut with her fingers. “So, talk then Doctor. I brought you out here to my thinking shack to get you to talk to me. Why is it exactly that you have a problem making love to me? I mean, if I was still a twenty year old ex-shop girl, I might be a bit upset that my bloke couldn’t manage to come after some of the best sex I’d ever had.”

He tried to speak while she was still pinching his lips shut. “Tume ob de bess?” He raised one eyebrow in question.

She wrinkled her nose. “Fine, the best bloody sex in this entire universe, you wanker. I mean, I’m no refined French courtesan,” he winced at this, “or an exotic sentient tree,” he winced again, “but I do actually know that you love me and I’m actually quite something. I’ve had enough men, and women, and aliens, try to pull me or court me or bloody propose to me to know that I’m a damned fine woman and…”

He pushed away the hand that had been pinch his lips shut and pulled her into his arms, capturing her lips with his and kissing her. It took her a moment to respond and she could feel the tension in him, the desperation, but then she wrapped her arms around him and her tongue met his and they were snogging and it was gorgeous. He tasted like the Lady Grey from breakfast and butter and crumpet and Doctor and it was a perfect kiss. It could have become a lot more, but he still needed to talk. One more minute….

She pulled away, gasping for breath and grinning at him. “Talk, Doctor. Talk.”

“I want you, Rose. I want you far, far too much and have for far, far too long. More than any other being I’ve met. It’s rather terrifying. And I’m still Time Lord…still Gallifreyan enough that wanting you so much has some side effects that aren’t very human.”

She opened her mouth to speak but he shook his head, “You can ask all the questions you want later, but I need to get through this.” He pulled away from her, sliding across the love seat and keeping his distance except for holding her hand, fingers entwined with hers. As they should be.

“I’m afraid that my mind wants you just as much as my body. Something that very rarely happens actually. Mind or body wanting anyone–it’s never actually happened all together like this. Never been a problem, even before I undid that nasty Pythian curse.”

A thousand questions swirled in her mind, but she bit her lip and struggled to keep quiet, though she was sure her expression fairly screamed, ‘And??’

He pursed his lips to one side and squinted and pulled faces until she was about to scream and then finally he blurted out, “Well, I can’t really orgasm. Not the regular way. Not without consequences.”

 _What? That made no bloody sense!_ “Course you can–unless you are that afraid of me getting pregnant. I mean I thought that you said we weren’t compatible–but you’re human now so maybe…” she trailed off as he raised an eyebrow and she narrowed her eyes in response. She blew out a breath and with exaggerated motions she pulled her fingers across her lips like a zipper and wrinkled up her nose as if to say, ‘Happy now?’

He nodded and twisted his lips in a smile, then dropped his hands to his knees and began rubbing in fidgety patterns. “Yup, quite bit human now. Forty nine percent Time Lord, and forty eight percent human and a bit of random for the rest.” He stood suddenly and began to pace around the little room. “The worst mix imaginable! Still have the need to bond, and not enough bloody control to stop it from happening!”

She bounced in her seat, tracking his progress across the room and fearing for that ugly vase her mother had given her as it danced across the mantle with each of his pounding steps. _What did he mean, bond? Or was this about pregnancy? I’m bloody lost, damn it!_

“Exactly. I don’t want to lose you. And I don’t mind pregnancy Rose, I would be incredibly honored if you would share your children with me–though I don’t know how possible it is. You’re still mostly human too, and I’d have to do a full sequencing but…” He trailed off, a look of confusion on his face to match hers. She pointed to her mouth, still firmly shut.

Then she pointed to her head and thought very, very loudly without making a sound.

_Did you just read my mind, Doctor?_

He looked very pale. He sat down on the loveseat again with a thump. “Oh, it’s worse than I thought. We’re practically bonded already, aren’t we? If I can pick up your thoughts like that.”

She swept in before he could protest, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth and holding him in her arms. He turned more into her body and pressed his lips to hers, opening his mouth and teasing her lips with his tongue. Of course she was going to let him in. Things escalated until he was balanced over her, both of them out of breath, his hips pressing against hers through her trousers and jeans. She thought at him, testing to see if this was real– _can I speak now, are we just going to shag, or should I just continue battering you with questions directly from my ape brain?_

“Oi, I’m part ape too you know. Go ahead, I’m never going to finish the speech I’d planned. I never get to finish my speeches–except when I’m dying. Then I get to finish speeches.”

She rolled her eyes and opened her mouth with a rapid fire series of questions, “What do you mean by bonding? I’ve read files on some telepathic species from Torchwood and bonding is supposed to be a very permanent kind of marriage. So, we have to be married for you to have sex?” She squinted at him, and then at the impressive erection confined in his jeans and still pressing against her. “Somehow I don’t think so.”

“We’re not married. I’ve been married. Well, once on Gallifrey and then a couple dozen times accidentally on various planets to get out of a sticky situation. But I’ve never been Bonded.” She could hear the capital letter there. He moved off of her and they both sat up. “There was this curse on Gallifrey, Pythia’s curse. Ages ago, Gallifreyans bonded to their mate, shared their souls. We weren’t fertile naturally otherwise. Important in a long-lived species to have a mate perfectly suited to you, and could regulate your patterns of…”

“Enough of the gob, Doctor, get to the point.”

“The Pythia poisoned our DNA. We could no longer fully bond, and no longer have children without in vitro methods. As Time Lord Society evolved, we gave up even the hope of having sex with each other, as full climax was impossible. We made little bonds then, with everyone we touched, just to keep us sane. But the Marriage Bond was lost forever. I was married and I had children, but I never had sex with a Time Lady, or Lord for that matter.”

Her mouth was hanging open again at this point, having heard more about his people in those few sentences than ever before. But it didn’t make sense. “You said you had danced before. That you had impressive moves. And my God, you do.” She stretched her hands over her head and arched her back, stretching her muscles in a lazy, sensual way that made him salivate. “I’ve never, ever been so satisfied in my entire life as that morning and yes, you really are that impressive.” His eyes roamed over her form, caressing the tiny bit of skin showing between her black trousers and blue T-shirt. She knew that he wanted her, that he just needed the right push to finally take what they both needed and sod his ridiculous reasons why not.

She leaned forward, letting him get a glimpse of cleavage from the gaping neckline. “I want the whole monty, Doctor. I want you to come inside me and fill me up with you. I want to have you dripping down my thighs. I want to wrap my lips around your wonderfully alien cock and let it read my dirty, filthy thoughts as I suck you dry. I crossed universes for you, Doctor. Don’t think I won’t get my way.” She put a hand on his thigh and he moved away until he fell with a thud on the floor.

“I’ve danced! I’ve had sex with other species. In 357 species, sexual intercourse must begin any negotiation, and in 76, 920, negotiations must be completed with sexual intercourse. In 38 cultures, the wars are fought entirely by two combatants over who can bring the other to orgasm and surrender first! I’ve been involved in a lot of negotiations in my nine hundred years, Rose Tyler.”

She stared at him sitting on the floor like an idiot, babbling daggers at her. Jealousy sang in her heart and she was livid. Damn him. “So it really is me then, is it? You’ve slagged your way across a Universe and now you’ve decided that I’m just a stupid ape and you can’t…”

He thrust his hands into his hair and pulled at his scalp as he grimaced. Anger and arousal warred in his eyes as he rocked back and forth, staring at her like he wanted to shake her or pound into her. “Oi! I could slap myself for that line. You are not a stupid ape and I’m not some intergalactic lothario. I’ve done what had to be done, but I haven’t enjoyed it.”

She raised a skeptical eyebrow and he bared his teeth at her. He hissed his rage at her, “I’ve never come! Never! I’ve faked orgasm dozens of times, and did a damn convincing job of it if I had to. But I didn’t want to lie to you.” His eyes were black, and she remembered the Oncoming Storm. “You, Rose Tyler, you were far, far too tempting. I’ve had intercourse with various beings occasionally, uninspired and boring, just so some people would forget about me. I can lie with my body, control every reaction, make all the right noises and bodily fluids and thundering heartbeats. And I knew that you wanted me. Smelled your want.” She swallowed in sudden embarrassment, but she couldn’t deny that she’d wanted him so often her knickers had to be changed frequently. Just like right now.

He leaned toward her and inhaled, grinning widely. She flushed pink in response. He blinked at her and took a deep breath, plowing ahead with his words. “But I didn’t want to lie to you. Not to you. And then, before I knew it, I wasn’t sure if I could have lied. It wouldn’t have been just sex between you and me, Rose. If I’d given in during making love to you and my control dropped for even a second, I’d have bonded us against your will…”

“If you’d told me, maybe I would have said yes! Asked me proper like and I would have bonded to you in a heartbeat. I’m never leaving you!” She didn’t even have to think about it. He was hers, her Doctor, and she was his Rose and she wanted it all, a Bond, a relationship, anything and everything.

He looked at her with shining eyes for a moment, his smile dazzling before it faded. He slumped slightly, his hands letting go of his hair and wrapping under his chin, his pinkies resting on that beautiful lower lip. “That’s beautiful, Rose. I’d always secretly wished that would have been the case, that you would want to be mine so completely. You are utterly brilliant and I want you far too much. But it’s wrong of me, Rose. I’ve a darkness in me, Rose. I’ve run away from myself since I was a child because when faced with a vision of my reality, somewhere there was a dark menace waiting for me. The Valeyard. I thought during the Time War, with the destruction of my people I would have escaped it, fulfilled that terrible destiny and died with all the others. When I awoke after regeneration–I still had to run.”

So damn close. She was still completely lost, his mind running far ahead with excuses. “What? What does any of that have to do with…?”

“When you die, Rose, when your bonded partner dies, you go mad. Insane. You kill yourself or have to be killed. It’s the dirty horrible secret of the Gallifreyans, and the reason why Rassilon and the Time Lords made no true effort to undo Pythia’s curse and allow us to Bond again. A mad Gallifreyan is very bad. A mad Time Lord means the end of the world. I’ve seen what it does. I’ve been tortured by those driven mad. I won’t be that…”

“But you’ve given me a long-winded explanation of my genetic structure and your genetic structure and rates of cellular decay and extrapolating that our lifespans are approximately equivalent.” She spoke clearly and competently, and then blinked. “Blimey–I am part alien now–I actually understood all that gobblydegook. Bugger.”

She paused for a moment, listening to a buzzing in her mind. Her eyes flickered downward and she noticed how tense he was, and how very hard is was in those new jeans of his. The buzzing grew louder. He swallowed thickly and she watched the muscles in his throat, wanting to caress them with her tongue. The buzzing became words.

_She’s so bloody sexy and smart and why am I fighting against these new instincts so very, very hard? Why can’t I bury myself in the incredible burning heat of her and drive us toward an epic, astounding, screaming, delectable…_

She grinned at him. “I heard all that, you know. Every word. Convenient, dontcha think, Doctor?” She slid on to the floor, kneeling in front of him and placing her hands high on his thighs. He twitched, inches from her fingertips. She grinned.

“Oi…Time Lord, let me explain it in simple terms. We have the same bloody life span now. And we don’t have a TARDIS to muck about destroying the universe any time soon. I’m yours for our forever. You ain’t going to go balmy. Give in and be mine. Let me in.”

She trailed her hands up until she cupped his length through unyielding denim. “Come with me.”


	6. Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminders — our poor TenII has never been able to orgasm due to the peculiarities of Gallifreyan biology and problematic curses. If he does, he will bind his partner to him, something he fears will condemn the universe as when she dies, he will go insane. It’s a leap of faith for him to believe that he might just be able to be happy.
> 
> Rose is a bit more than she used to be, thanks to her own determination and the help of the TARDIS long ago. And she’s not going to let her Doctor be an idiot.

Where we left off:

“Oi…Time Lord, let me explain it in simple terms. We have the same bloody life span now. And we don’t have a TARDIS yet to muck about destroying the universe any time soon. I’m yours for our forever. You ain’t going to go barmy. Give in and be mine. Let me in.”

She trailed her hands up until she cupped his length through unyielding denim. “Come with me.”

On with the show:

 

He practically leapt upon her, capturing her lips with a fiery kiss.

_Can’t protect you. Can’t stop._

_Don’t stop! I want you._

She wanted to drive him mad with desire, to push all thoughts out of that massive brain of his. His hands pulled at her clothes until seams ripped and her vest top gave way. Her hands also yanked at his T-shirt with impatience, and then surprise as his seams gave way as well.

She was much stronger now with whatever changes she had undergone. She didn’t pause to think, but pushed at him, spinning them around with a growl on her lips. Climbing on top of him she settled on his thighs, trapping him under her. She looked up at his beloved face and his eyes stared at her with such desperate hunger, his pupils wide, the pitch black of arousal consuming the warm brown of his irises. Her breath caught and she couldn’t wait. Rose leaned forward, circling one of his dark nipples with her tongue and pulling at the button of his jeans with determination. He gripped her hips and grunted roughly, a very human, very male sound that curled in her belly and drove her need higher.

She was drenched, her knickers wet. Her mind itched — burned. She needed him, every bit of him. Her fingers scratched over the hard muscles of his belly and he shuddered under her touch. Determined, she scooted farther down his legs and unzipped those too-new crisp jeans. He let out a breathy sigh that sent a throb of heat through her core. She plunged a hand into the blue boxer briefs she’d bought for him just yesterday. She’d wondered then if she’d ever see them like this — pants pushed down, hips arching toward her, the thick heavy weight of him in her hand, his cock throbbing to the rhythm of his new heartbeat.

His fingers gripped her shoulders with bruising strength. “Rose…Rose, you shouldn’t…I still can’t…”

“You bloody well can!” She slid down even more, wrenching away from his hands, all the while not releasing her grip on his cock. Her chest pressed against his shins, and she shivered at the scrape of his jeans and the lace of her bra against her nipples. She licked her lips and then closed her eyes, circling her tongue around the very tip of him, tasting the drops of pre-cum. Salty yes, but bright, almost effervescent in flavor. Utterly perfect.

She felt his hands hovering over her head as she stroked her tongue over him, savoring him, feeling the roughness of those odd stripes of his and shivering with the memory of just how bloody good they felt inside of her slick walls. He made the most wondering panting gasps, sending smug sparks through her nerves as she sucked him in deep and he bumped the back of her throat.

She looked up at him, his eyes black and a look of stunned amazement on his face. She pressed her tongue against his glans and his hips bucked. “Rose! Rose this…I don’t know if I can control…”

She could feel him grow, swell slightly in her mouth and the buzzing in her head grew clearer, louder, brighter. Her head throbbed, a golden burning that needed something she couldn’t put into words. She pushed outward with her mind instinctively, begging for him to touch hers, though she had no concept that’s what she was doing. She bumped against his very self, his mind a scintillating silver blue that burned like ice. It was everything she needed. She pressed harder and was flooded with feelings not her own. Desire, so white hot as to make her own pale in comparison, and terror — shear terror.

She let him go with a pop. Pushing back for a moment, she felt flooded with shame. This was wrong. She couldn’t take what she wanted. She couldn’t force it. She didn’t want to spoil what this might be. She had to make him believe in her, in them.

He stared at her, eyes huge and so so dark, and a war existed behind those eyes. They were both still for a long, silent moment, both lost inside. In her mind she could still feel him close. His soul surged and shuddered as he fought to just let go. She wanted nothing more that to drag him to her, make him surrender, make him choose them, to bind them together for whatever forever meant. But it wouldn’t work. He had to choose.

She stood slowly. She took ahold of his shoes one by one and pulled them from his feet. Then his multicolored rainbow socks that he’d insisted on — explaining that his sixth self would have loved them. Then his bunched together jeans and pants, pulling and tugging until he was fantastically naked.

He continued to stare at her, his body unmoving except for the rise and fall of each rapid breath. Within, she felt his mind churning, sending sparks where it was twining with her own, teasing her with possibilities she couldn’t have conceived of just days ago. She smiled softly, pushing back gently with her own mind, letting him know she was there, that she wanted him, that she loved him. He groaned, his voice contorted with suffocated want. She raised an eyebrow and pulled off the shreds of her top, slipped off her bra, shucked off her black trousers and the blue silk underwear that were her favorite indulgence. His cock throbbed, hard and ready, but he stayed completely still, watching her as though she was a dangerous despot trying to take over the universe — and he her willing slave.

Sexy — but not what she wanted. He had to choose.

She reached down to her newly blonde curls and ran a finger though her labia, gathering an embarrassing amount of moisture and circling once around her clit, every move watched by her captive audience. He licked his lips and her womb clenched at the idea of his mouth on her again, knowing how good he would be to her.

Later. Everything and anything and more.

She knelt over him, one leg on either side of his hips, knees digging into the cheap throw rug she’d once bought to keep the chill off her feet as she sat in this hideaway and dreamed of the day she’d get her Doctor back. Now she lowered herself until her swollen folds pressed against his cock. She felt those wonderful alien stripes of his ripple under her, reaching toward her as she rocked slowly against his cock, letting him feel how much she wanted him. She sat down fully, his cock trapped under her, so close to being inside of her. She sighed, closed her eyes and felt him glimmering in her mind, so close but still so far. What could she do? How could she convince him that he wouldn’t go mad; she would never, ever, leave him. She was convinced that not even death would take her from him. Bad Wolf was too strong.

Some people had religion. She had them — the Doctor and Rose — together.

She opened her eyes and smiled down into those wide open eyes, eyes that had looked at her with the same soul from three bodies. She pressed her right palm against his left heart — the one remaining heart he had. The one that was hers. She gave him a grin, a full out “Rose Tylah” special with her tongue between her teeth. She pressed her other palm to her own heart.

“I love you, Doctor.”

He smiled, still dazed by those words, and opened his mouth to respond. But she shook her head and tried again, in her mind this time.

_I love you, my Doctor._

He blinked at her, eyes shining. Fear and love and longing throbbed in her mind, both his and hers.

She spoke aloud, because she still wasn’t sure how much he could hear from her in his mind, how strong she was with this telepathy thing.

“You still have two hearts, Doctor. ‘Cause you’ve got mine. Had it for a long time…since, ‘Run!’. You’ll always have it Doctor, if you need it, or even if you don’t. I’m always going to be with you.” She pressed both hands against his chest, pushing her desperation toward him with hands and mind. “Even if I die Doctor, my heart is here, with you. You’ll always always have me. You won’t go mad because you’ll always have me.”

A teardrop fell and hit the freckled skin next to her right hand. She didn’t realize she was crying, but she saw she was not alone. Tears ran from his eyes and his heated gaze consumed her, his eyes bright sparks that said she was the center of the entire universe. She opened her mouth, trying to find more words to convince him, but he leaned up and captured her mouth, one hand coming up to tangle in her hair and pull her against him. He devoured her mouth. She could taste the salt of their tears and the sweet undertone of something indescribably beautiful.

His other hand reached over her thigh and aligned his cock and with a slow push of his hips he was thrusting into her, slow and sure and deep. She sighed into the endless kiss, feeling like she was finally home. He swelled within her as he had last time, fitting himself to her perfectly, as though he was made for her. She ran her nails over his chest and his hips bucked, starting a series of long, slow deep thrusts as he arched his hips into her as she undulated her hips against him, grinding her clit against his pelvic bone.

The pleasure spiraled in her, her vision blurry as the kiss sapped her oxygen, the shimmering power of his mind stroking hers growing more and more intense. She could feel the connections begin to thrum, threads of impossibly white light that tied them together, her soul to his.

He sat up suddenly, his arms wrapped around her and his cock so deep inside. Still kissing him, she felt unbalanced. She wrapped her legs around his arse until she was suspended above him, unable to do anything but rock softly against him as he throbbed deep within her. He had made her come over and over again last time, his wonderfully alien cock conforming to her, his possession of her body complete but by the end she’d been alone — reaching for him with mind and body and left wanting. This time, she wasn’t even sure she could achieve orgasm in this position — but the pleasure was still so sweet. This time, he was with her utterly and completely. He pulled away from her lips and looked into her eyes, love and awe conquering that endless fear.

_I love you, Rose Marion Tyler. I believe in you._

She smiled at him, her mind open, her heart thrumming and blood on fire for him. _Believe in us. Let go and fall._ Tears pooled in her eyes as the truth of things fell into place. _For us, sometimes falling will work for the best._

He nodded leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers, and she could finally see. Eyes closed and heart open, she could see everything, the tiny strands that connected everything, rock and tree, fish and fawn and every perfectly imperfect human on the planet. Everything was bound together, but nothing shone as brightly as her Doctor. He was reaching out, faint bonds extending toward everything, to this planet, to this universe — and yet that was a sorry shadow of what could be, what had been. She could see these bonds were pale shades to the dying roots of bonds that had been slashed. The other universe was gone. His people were gone. So many people, so many beings he had loved and lost. Donna and Martha and Jack and Sarah Jane, all gone. Over and over again, loss and sorrow and pain.

She pressed forward, unknowingly brighter than a supernova, soothing each rip and tear, filling in what she can, acknowledging the pain of what she can’t, and loving him. He accepted each touch, each kiss, each healing thought, and he sought her own wounds in turn. The pain of separation, the silent worry that she’ll never be good enough. She knows now that she always was what he wanted. He knows that he was always what she needed.

He laughed and she joined him, their shared pain of separation made bearable by the brilliance of now, by the tiny shocks of pleasure humming through them both as they rocked together, bliss spiraling higher and higher almost without them being aware just how close they were to breaking.

Their minds wove closer and closer, the links between them becoming a Bond. A fact that would define them more than their names, more than their species.

Fear/elation/love/lust/need/belonging

There were no words in any language that could describe this joining — body, mind and soul. They rose to the peak, higher and higher.

Rose no longer quite knew where she ended and he began, only that they were together. She could feel the rise of orgasm, unstoppable and brilliant, her/his/their awareness tightening down to where they were connected, the rocking of bodies faster and faster, breathing ragged and skin slick with sweat and minds pulsing in gold and silver, blue and white. They reached the peak together, her screams and his growls, and then — despite fear and history and madness and guilt — they let go.

The world was an explosion of light and sound, memory and thought, everywhere and nowhere. The strands of their souls ignite, fuse, making something unbreakable, eternal. They are one.

 

He lay on the rug, panting for breath, his home held in his arms warm and safe. All the places that had ached within him, before and after he’d lost his home of centuries, they were soothed, the edges blurry when faced with such contentment. He could feel her smile into the skin of his shoulder, and he suddenly realized the grin on his own face was so wide his cheeks ached with it. She was his, he hers — for better or worse, he believed in them. And orgasm — wow. If human experienced a hundredth of the overwhelming sensations he’d just indulged in, he could see why they were so sex obsessed. Rose shook, and he felt the waves of amusement coming from her mind, warm and bright and so close to his. She understood all that, and she’d laughed! The fear was pushed farther away — this was worth the risk.

“So, that was rather brilliant. When can we do that again? In the shower? Oh — out on a beach, clear all those bad memories right up. What about out under the…”

She slapped at his arm, “Give a man an orgasm after nine hundred years and that’s all he’s going to think about now, eh? You going to turn into a regular bloke, Doctor?” She looked up at him with a grin.

He waggled his eyebrows at her. Then for a moment looked serious. Then into her mind he spoke a long trill of syllables, soft and sad and hard and beautiful.

Her eyes misted over and she clutched at him, wanted to hold him in her arms and never let the world in again. _Your name? You gave me your name?_

He smiled at her. “So clever, my lovely wife! Yup. Don’t try to say it out loud — you might release some very bad mojo into this poor unsuspecting universe.”

Her mouth opened. “Wife? You…”

“Well, wife is a convenient term. Bondmate. Other half. Soulsharer. Holder-of-my-essential-being. What would you prefer?” He grinned at her, his cock already impatient and swelling within her again.

She sat up and moaned, pinning him with a half-hearted glare. “You realize that we are still going to have to get married the human way, someday. That Mum will murder us both unless she gets to plan something big and ostentatious at bloody St. Paul’s, and we are going to have to throw a fit to keep it small and fun.”

“Perhaps I can just call you my Rose for now. Later, we can do the whole manic party bit and white dress…or is it green? Charteuse? Ew….that would be terrible. And St. Paul’s is dull. What about the Eiffel Tower? Or the Taj Mahal? Yosemite…how about the Pyramids! I always thought the pyramids would be a grand place for a wedding. They are a fertility symbol on Gympac XI after all. Yup — that would be thing. Married on top of old Cheops…”

She swirled her hips and bent forward to kiss him. It was a very effective way of stopping his gob. And would be for millennia.


End file.
